


to feed an incubus

by ohsoblue



Category: NoPixel
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, and for inspiring incubus stanley, special thanks to my friends, this is for them, trans siz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsoblue/pseuds/ohsoblue
Summary: when siz tells him to sit there and watch, that's exactly what stanley does.
Relationships: Siz Fulker/Stanley Wilkinson
Kudos: 6





	to feed an incubus

**Author's Note:**

> like i said, this is for my friends, it's for them. not only is it a gift, it's a thank you.
> 
> this fic has trans siz and front penetration, as well as someone (aka stanley) watching. if that's not your cup of tea, you've been warned.
> 
> you can find me on twitter [@imightbeblue (ohsoblue) ](https://twitter.com/imightbeblue)

They have a code. And it’s kind of funny because it started out literally. What it’s become now is a signal. But that doesn’t mean Stanley makes it easy to distinguish between his actual needs or if it’s a joke that he likes pulling out his tacky tophat for the others. 

Siz leans back against the bar, listening to the loud chatter inside the tavern- and sprinkled within the conversation is that same code not once, not twice, but _three times_. Stanley’s avoiding Siz’s relentless gaze from behind his red shades, fingers playing with the tip of his water bottle. Stanley flinches minutely as Siz circles the tip of it and then brings his finger up to lick off a drop of water.

Aside from his usual horny vibes, Siz isn’t _sure_. He’s tried asking Stanley nonverbally each time he’s said it- and maybe the amount of times he’s repeated it _is_ the sign? But last time Siz called him out on it, nothing came out of it. Besides, if what he’s heard is true, Stanley should have gotten his fill from Kraytor the night before. 

And, well, Siz has heard all about it. Against the wall, in the shower, on the couch… Surely that’s more than enough to have satisfied his cravings, no? 

Siz lifts the water bottle and takes a few gulps, catching the movement of Stanley’s head. He’s turned towards him to watch. It makes the corners of his lips twitch as he puts the now empty bottle on the counter. He licks his lips and pushes himself off the bar. 

“Stanley,” he calls out, silencing a good majority of the bar in their curiosity to hear what he’s going to say next. Nosy fucks, he thinks fondly. “Come with me for a second.”

He starts walking through the tavern, letting the crowd of people part for him. The power is something people often die for in Los Santos, but it doesn’t give him that expected thrill; sometimes he still longs for the freedom of someone who’s told what to do.

He doesn’t wait for Stanley to follow. He opens the door and pulls his keys out of his pockets, unlocking his bike. He climbs onto the motorcycle and when Stanley approaches his side, he motions for him to as well. He doesn’t start driving until Stanley’s hands are tentatively grasping his shirt. With a rev, he leaves the tavern behind him.

* * *

His house is too obvious of a place. So he takes Stanley somewhere else. Specifically, that office near the beach that he’s had a lot of meetings at. He doubts anyone’s there and he doesn’t think anyone will find them if the others go looking. Julio’s just… like that sometimes.

Siz ignores Stanley’s questions. The answers should be obvious, shouldn’t they? And anyway, if Stanley’s going to rile Siz up, he should at least drop the playing dumb act. It’s never worked before, why would it now?

He hooks his finger into the collar of his turtleneck and brings him to the stairs, leading him up to the office. Despite not talking to Payne about buying or renting, he’s swapped out the locks and has the door opened within seconds, letting it swing shut behind them as soon as Stanley steps inside.

At this point, Stanley’s skipped over his act and is looking a bit eager.

“Someone’s getting spoiled,” Siz scolds, but Stanley’s been a good boy lately. He supposes he’s earned a treat.

“Can you blame me?” Stanley asks and comes to a stand where Siz directs, kneeling down when he’s motioned to.

“Depends,” Siz says, shrugging off his vest. He lets it hit the floor and kicks off his flip flops. He eyes the way Stanley swallows, tongue dipping out to wet his lips. He puts his hands on the buttons of his jeans and tilts his head, waiting.

“When the food’s so good, who wouldn’t ask for dessert?” Stanley asks, cautiously moving forward. His hands are timid when they prod at the button, undoing it when his fingers aren’t smacked away. He trails his fingers down and he nabs the zipper on his way.

“I’m the dessert?” Siz asks, shimmying the pants off his hips and letting his briefs fall with them. He hears a small whimper from Stanley, who is so close, he can feel the breath hitting his pelvis. It stirs his own hunger. 

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Stanley murmurs, something flickering in his gaze. As he leans forward, Siz puts a stop to it by poking his forehead, keeping him in place. 

“Saps, the lot of you,” Siz says, turning up the disgust to hide the fluttering in his voice. He leans back and takes a seat on the recliner, lifting his shirt above his head. “I’d assume the main course would be more accurate.”  
“Not sweet enough,” Stanley replies, more confident than usual. But he’s shaking, his hands eager to reach out and touch. Siz can almost hear the growling of his stomach from where he perches.

“That so?” Siz asks, lifting his legs and hooking them around the armrests, spreading himself. On display like this, Siz is incredibly uncomfortable, but he’s making a point and he knows Stanley picks up on the trust he’s granting him. Stanley trusted him with a great many things- has trusted him to be there for feedings. Siz is simply returning it. 

But it means more than that and they both know it.

“You used the code three times in the tavern,” Siz remarks, fingers trailing over his thighs. The cold air is getting to him, makes him want to rush through this, but he won’t. Not now. 

“Did I?” Stanley asks, hands dipping under the waistband of his own pants. He waits to be reprimanded, but when that doesn’t happen, he blinks in surprise. 

“I counted,” Siz snarks, a fingertip circling around his cock. He drags his finger down through his folds, swiping over his entrance. From where Stanley continues to kneel, he can see the slickness of his skin. “Is this what you needed?”

Stanley whimpers low in his throat, hand working himself beneath his jeans.

“Wanted, “ Stanley corrects. “Please. _Please_.”

It’s flattering and unusual for someone to long for him so badly that they beg to have him. It warms Siz, makes his heart flutter. It makes him want to hide. He tips his head back as he strokes over his cock again, hips arching into his hand. 

“You wanted this,” Siz says, sliding a finger in himself with a whine, “so badly that you, ah, used your code three times? Mm, made me think it was, _fuck_ , urgent?”

“I had to,” Stanley says, voice rough. “Every time I looked at the, uh, the bar- you were right there, legs spread, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You.”

No less than a dozen times has Stanley offered him _something_ , ever since word got out that Siz and Zelda were no more. But if Siz were to ever be with someone again, it’s not going to be a rebound, and it wasn’t going to close him off of others near and dear to his heart. He’s made that clear. And if Stanley doesn’t care, if he’s daring enough to use the code three times in the short span of twenty minutes within hearing distance, _knowing_ what it would mean to both of them…? Well, then, Stanley. 

“If you want it, you can have it,” Siz says, and before Stanley can crawl over to him, he continues with, “later. If you can be good and sit there until I’m done.”

Stanley whispers out a, “ _fuck_.” He eagerly nods his head and it looks ridiculous with his hand still in his pants.

Siz doesn’t need any more words. He dips another finger inside himself, achingly slow and normally he doesn’t like teasing himself, but this isn’t for him. It’s for Stanley. And it’s Stanley’s name that’s on his lips when he starts thrusting his fingers. 

When Siz opens his eyes, Stanley is before him, trembling and torn between the desire he has and the command given. With a tiny, almost unnoticeable smirk, Siz’s hips lift and he whines his name louder.

“ _Siz_ ,” Stanley pleads, even as he humps his palm, “you’re killing me.”

Siz doesn’t reply, doesn’t acknowledge his presence. He uses his free hand to stroke his cock, and though he hates being loud, he doesn’t stifle himself this time. It’s entirely different than how he normally is, and he can see the effect it’s having on Stanley.

Gaze entirely focused on his fingers, teeth sharp and digging into Stanley’s bottom lip. He’s having a hard time keeping the pace he set with himself, arching and thrusting into his hand like it’s _Siz_ instead. Small rumbles and whimpers in his throat, leaning dangerously forward as though it’s taking everything he has to keep listening to his demand.

It does something to him, makes Siz want to continue to test those limits, but unfortunately, he doesn’t actually have all night. He speeds up and when his fingers stutter, Stanley scoots closer. 

“Ah, uh, no,” Siz warns. “I thought you were going to be good?”

It’s a miracle he can get the sentence out when he’s _this_ close to the edge.

“I am, I am, I promise,” Stanley says, voice low and broken. He licks his lips and drags his eyes up, locking their gazes together. 

Siz finds himself clenching around his fingers, a surprised moan of, “ _Stanley_ ” leaving him. He thrusts a few more times and then pulls his fingers out, dripping onto the recliner under him. 

“Shit,” Siz says around a sigh, and then considers the man in front of him. “I suppose you were. Alright. Come here.”

Siz lets Stanley crawl forward at last and offers him the fingers that were inside himself only moments ago. Stanley opens his mouth when Siz taps at his bottom lip, leaning forward to accept them in. Siz shudders at the feeling of a tongue weaving between his digits, Stanley moaning around them. 

Stanley works himself up and gently bites down when he cums, leaving imprints of his teeth on Siz’s knuckles. He apologizes with timid licks, pulling back and leaving a trail of saliva.

With his cleaner hand, Siz runs an appreciative hand through Stanley’s hair. 

“Thank you,” Stanley whispers, pressing a cheek to the side of Siz’s left knee, staring oh so sincerely up at him.

Chest burning, much like his face, Siz clears his throat and looks away.

“That’s, um. That’s my answer to your question the other day,” Siz replies, then tugs at a few unruly black strands. Stanley doesn’t flinch, as he considers his words.

Then, with his eyes wide, he remembers his question.

“Really? You want that with _me_?” Stanley asks, eyes suspiciously watery.

Like Siz said. Surrounded by saps. Why they like him, he has no clue.

“If you consider what I said,” Siz replies, moving his cramping legs. Stanley doesn’t move and lets his body be cradled between them. He likes Stanley, a lot, but his heart is for others, too. 

Stanley grins and leans up, pressing kisses to Siz’s lips. 

The chair is too small for both of them, but they make it work. They don’t end up leaving the office until the sun starts to come up.


End file.
